Ghost Hunt 
by No. 13

“Amane. Wake up.”

Tezuka’s heart stopped.

Tatsunori – had he been a mere mortal – would have been holding his breath like Tezuka did, waiting for something to happen in the deafening silence that filled the spacious room.

Shadows danced as the wind raged on outside, bending trees and creating patterns on dark marble tiles. The candles flickered eerily, white markings glowing a reddish on the floor.

Darkness lingered at the edges of Tezuka’s vision, the lack of air made him feel light-headed and faint, but he couldn’t close his eyes just yet. He couldn’t turn away, horrified and mesmerized as movement came from the prone form in the chamber’s centre.

Fuji rose to his knees.

A gesture, so simply and gracefully executed even with a pompous kimono weighting him down. This - he couldn’t deny the change – wasn’t his friend anymore.

Fuji’s movements might usually have been elegant, but Tezuka was certain his friend had little experience with wearing ancient kimonos. Neither how to move like a high-ranked courtesan in the16th century. His friend had been too sick to stand on his own when they’d last seen each other…

And now that….

… that this other person could stand…

… did it mean that…?

Couldn’t this just be a nightmare?

“Ichirou”

The voice of Fujiwara Amane spoke, soft, seductive and sensuous. Full of promises, deep and rich and so very, very dark.

“Finally. After four centuries, we’ll be granted our wish.”

Gracefully rising to her feet, with the kimono around her unfolding like a precious flower, she stepped over to her husband’s side. It was easy to believe her words, right now. Even though it was Fuji’s body, Tezuka thought he saw unearthly beauty of the kind even females rarely possessed. A smile, unlike any Fuji had ever given lingered on blood-red lips.

She was temptation, one, that even Tezuka had little trouble believing, had caused many a man’s downfall. With a voice so smooth and honeyed, so soothing in its intonations and melodious on the surface, holding promises of sinful darkness beneath this surface of breath-taking beauty.

“Amane.” Tatsunori Ichirou breathed, reaching out for her hand, even after half a millennium smitten with his beloved’s beauty. Demurely, yet with a touch of arrogance she slowly stepped closer, raising her head to meet his gaze. Both spend a long time looking into each other’s eyes.

Some obscure conversation went on, because suddenly Amane’s smile widened, just a tad more devilish, and Tatsunori ignored conventions and rules and drew her into his arms. It was a lover’s gesture, one that made Tezuka stop cold, made confusion roar inside his head again.

“Nothing will come between us now. Nothing, forevermore.” Tatsunori vowed, hands wrapped securely around Amane’s shoulders, pressing her close to himself. “There is nobody we have to fear, nobody whom we owe loyalty to – it’s just us and the world at our feet.”

And Tezuka wondered whether it would be right, after all, to separate two reunited lovers. Because, as horrible as their deeds had been, those emotions were pure. Tatsunori Ichirou, he saw, was completely taken by his beloved, not only her beauty, but her soul, her entire being. This all-consuming love he couldn’t grasp, he found, not when the idea alone sent shivers down his spine.

… but this was still Fuji somewhere! This body wasn’t Fujiwara Amane, had never been and should never be! This was his friend, somewhere, still! They had no right doing what they did, they had no right to destroy lives just for their own happiness!

But they’d done it for each other. Their feelings for each other made the friendly bond between Tezuka and his friend appear like a dust crumb beside a mountain. Those two had continued loving each other even after they’d died, defied nature for each other – while Tezuka hadn’t even managed to defy his own rationality. Hell, if emotions played a part – it shouldn’t be him standing in this place. He didn’t know how to show passion for another human being, didn’t understand how to reach out.

Oishi, Kawamura, Momoshirou – anybody wouldn’t have faltered here, anybody wouldn’t have tried to simply deny the paranormal until he had no choice to do otherwise. Anybody else would have been a better friend –

“Just the two of us, forevermore.”

Tatsunori’s eyes glimmered darkly in the candlelight, the unholy flickering making Amane giggle sweetly, evilly.

“Ah, there’s one promise, darling, I wouldn’t mind honouring.”

And then she turned to Tezuka with a gleeful, but undeniably beautiful smile. “Ne, Tezuka-kun, don’t be so afraid. We wouldn’t want you to die an untimely death, not after your friend made us promise to leave you alone.”

Tezuka shuddered violently, and while no change of expression overcame his face, he felt desperation gnawing at his insides again. So the ghost hadn’t just left him lying down there because he felt like it – his friend had stepped in…

So why, why, why couldn’t he do anything in return?

“Fuji…” he muttered, involuntarily. Barely more than a gasp, but the newly revived ghosts heard anyway, recognized his sentiments and started laughing.

“Ah, that’s just lovely.” Amane tittered cruelly, “Tell me, Tezuka-kun, were the two of you lovers?”

Tezuka’s breath caught at the implication. Only a few days ago he would have screamed denial, or simply raised an eyebrow at something like this. Indicating the insinuation was too ridiculous to be worthy of consideration. But now…

Now he wasn’t sure what he felt for Fuji. Was it friendship, but if this was friendship, what had they been before? Mere acquaintances? And if it was love, what was it that Tatsunori and Amane shared, then? Did he feel the same for Fuji as his parents felt for each other? Did he …

When no answer was forthcoming, Amane carried on regardless. “My, that would just be too tragic, wouldn’t it, darling?”

“Indeed, dear.” Tatsunori replied, smirking at Tezuka, “We could help you out, then. Remember, we too were separated by death, but we overcame it. If you loved your friend, if you truly loved him as much as he cared for you, you’ll kill yourself now. And when you wake up a ghost you need to collect 66 souls and a vessel to revive your beloved.”

“Maybe we could even help you with the souls.” Amane added cheerfully, “Tatsunori has some experience there. And really, Fuji-kun was such a dear and cooperated without trouble after we promised to leave you alone, that, you I know, I feel like we ought to help you.”

Darkness was dancing invitingly in front of Tezuka’s eyes, while mind felt caught in an endless spiral of madness. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn’t accept what he was seeing, couldn’t figure out what he was feeling …

“THIS ENDS HERE!”

The yell from a new voice cut through the air like an ice-cold blade, freeing Tezuka’s mind from its cage of insanity, restoring hope to the situation. A cold wind blew into the old chamber, bringing a hint of rain and damp leaves and he could barely make out Fuji Yumiko’s silhouette against the doorframe.

“You!” Amane hissed, whirling around with flying sleeves. Tatsunori drew himself up, demandingly.

“Who do you think you are?!”

Head held high, Yumiko marched into the room as if she feared nothing. By all rights, she shouldn’t have looked that impressive in her beige coat and Tezuka shouldn’t have felt that much relieve. The catastrophe was far from over and he the world was still spinning far too fast. His heart still pounded like mad.

Yumiko shot the two figures in the centre only a flat glare, looking entirely unimpressed. It astonished Tezuka to see her that cool now, when she’d been fretting about the ghost’s incredible strength previously.

“Stop this now, you two, or face the consequences.”

Something had changed. This woman wasn’t the Fuji Yumiko Tezuka knew. Not the gently smiling sister who’d make raspberry pie for her siblings. He’d heard that commanding voice before…

“Hahaha, what are you saying, foolish mortal?” Amane tittered, voice high and brittle, “Your powers are nothing!”

Yumiko didn’t stop her approach and Amane actually stepped backwards. Tatsunori Ichirou however held his ground, looking like a samurai about to draw his sword.

“Woman! Have you forgotten who we are? The ceremony has been completed! There is nothing to stop anymore! This can not be undone!”

“Fool you are, then.” Yumiko whispered and Tezuka caught sight of her pale, drawn face. He swallowed, feeling utterly useless and terribly afraid. Darkness was sparkling in Yumiko’s eyes too, the same darkness he’d seen in Tatsunori’s eyes earlier. There was raw power emitting from her small form, power that seemed oppressive within the walls of the suddenly far too small chamber.

“You can not harm us!” Amane screeched, suddenly not laughing anymore but half-panicked, “You’re just a human! You can’t harm us!”

“Can’t I?” Yumiko asked, smiling sweetly, dangerously. Tezuka shuddered as the air around them thickened with something unknown, but terribly grand. The candles flickered irregularly, and the darkness increased.

“You know what we are!” Tatsunori exclaimed, “We are no mere immortals! We have surpassed demons!”

“Demons.” Yumiko snorted, sounding as arrogant and cold as Amane had done minutes earlier. Her smile turned evil.

“Demons. There is more to this than demons, have you forgotten? And here, in this realm, there is nothing that can’t be undone.”

Tezuka shivered. Coldness had long since numbed his toes – he’d fall if he lost his balance, h had absolutely no control over his limbs. He’d fall into the darkness, maybe never to wake up again…

“Your brother is dead!” Amane screamed.

“Is he?” Yumiko smiled, a terrible gesture lacking any hint of compassion or concern. As if it wasn’t her brother Amane was talking about. As if she was just an unconcerned bystander who decided to intervene for personal amusement.

“To you maybe. But as long as Tezuka-kun refuses to believe it his soul lingers.”

Tezuka, for the first time this night, felt hope sparking within him. He had …? Confusion rose, almost completely overcoming him, but he fought the fainting spell at the last minute. He had believed? It had been his doing that…

Fuji was still alive?! Things could be restored, brought into their right order again? Fuji wasn’t lost yet? All because he’d clung onto one promise, unwilling to give up until he’d had absolute certainty?

“You don’t have the power to undo this!” Tatsunori shouted, trying to heighten his presence, to make himself grander than Yumiko. And while he might have been taller than her, broader and stronger, he had nothing on her in terms of spiritual powers. A raindrop against an entire ocean.

Where he emitted strength and stature, Yumiko’s powers held no boundaries, were formless, raw and all-consuming. Tearing through flesh and mortar alike, untamed and beyond any scale.

“This may not be my own power.” Yumiko admitted undisturbed, “But have you forgotten who regularly grants me her powers? Have you truly not seen in whose stead I speak?”

Tatsunori flinched violently, with Amane already half-hiding behind his back, her hands clutching at his arm in fear.

Yumiko laughed, high, cold and arrogant. “Who fears demons when wielding the power of gods?”

And her eyes reflected a darkness that wasn’t natural anymore.

Tezuka’s eyes widened in shock, he felt his knees weakening. This really wasn’t Fuji Yumiko, hell, the one he knew hadn’t even looked this… this insane, possessed, beyond everything on this planet, be it good or evil at their séance. She hadn’t …

Was this the true extend of her gift? Or was this already something else? Had she lost of control somewhere along the way, given in into a maelstrom of power?

“Oh my…” Amane gasped, white-faced, barely holding herself upright. Just for second, Tezuka could recognize Fuji’s features shining through. The paleness, the weakness …

“Who are you?!” Tatsunori demanded vehemently, but he couldn’t keep his voice from trembling. Tezuka in his stead would have run – only, that from this there was no escape.

A dark smile on Yumiko’s lips.

“Oh, I believe you know my name. Fuji Yumiko, or are you asking for something else?”

She was still herself? Was this truly her power?

No reply was forthcoming and the shadows grew. Tezuka stood still, praying he wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

“Or are you asking for the name of the one whose powers I wield? The one of many names?”

Another step forward, the clacking of high heeled shoes echoed like a gunshot through the clammy room.

“That one has been called many names – Fortuna, Skuld, Destiny – but what is a name after all? A name won’t tell you anything if you don’t understand this power yet.”

“You’re power isn’t to change history!” Tatsunori roared in helpless protest, his face displaying all those emotions Tezuka had felt earlier. “You’re only the one who foresees the future, Fuji Yumiko! You’re not the one to rewrite fate!”

“And yet I can.”

“For what price?!” Amane screamed, leaning forward, her expression desperate and twisted. “It’s going to kill you! Maim you! She’ll never give her powers for free! She’ll have your soul! You can’t! You can’t!”

“I know the powers I wield well enough to understand what I am doing.” Yumiko replied, face grave and determined, yet with darkness sparkling in her eyes, “To understand what I can do and what I can’t. To understand what I have to do.”

The corners of her lips twitched upwards. Tezuka shuddered.

“You’ll die for nothing!” Tatsunori Ichirou declared, pale-faced yet with conviction.

Yumiko’s face darkened.

“I do not fear death.” She replied evenly. “Neither the devil nor the darkness. The consequences do not scare me. I’ll accept them. No matter what they are.”

“YOU’RE INSANE!” Amane screeched hysterically and Yumiko laughed.

Tezuka wondered for a split second whether he ought to step in and save Yumiko’s life, stop her from whatever she was about to commit – if it scared ghosts, if it scared those who had already died, it had to be beyond horrible. And then Yumiko gestured with her right hand, a mere flick of the wrist, but …

“YOU ARE..:.” Tatsunori roared and all of a sudden reality shattered. As if it had been a picture strung on frail paper, suddenly torn into pieces. Ripping apart in the middle and …

And then there was nothing.

Tezuka blinked, confused, willing the fog over his eyes to lift. But the scene remained unchanged, marble tiles decorated with ancient runes, flickering candles and long shadows.

Had anything happened at all?

He could hear the wind howling outside again; louder even than the pounding of his own, desperately confused heart. The rustling of dead leaves, the evergreen’s branches bending and groaning – nothing had changed.

Nothing…

All remained the same…

Only Fuji Yumiko wasn’t standing or speaking anymore. Instead, her body rested unmoving on the cold ground amid flickering candles. No sign of life… Drawing a sharp breath, Tezuka tore his gaze away, dreading to find his worst fears affirmed.

Tatsunori Ichirou and Fuiwara Amane in the chamber’s centre, pale-faced and trembling, holding onto each other. But they’d won, hadn’t they?

Everything had played out to their success in the end, hadn’t it?

Ice slowly crawled through Tezuka’s veins, uncomfortably freezing the thin layer of sweat covering his skin. Goosebumps rose on his forearms, the dreadful sensation of wrongness sent his head spinning.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

Darkness rose from inside of him, his vision started to blur until he could only barely make out Amane’s and Tatsunori’s fear-stricken faces exchanging worried glances. Too dizzy to wonder at their behaviour, he could only helplessly gasp for breath; his mind still struggling to cope with the situation.

Had they really lost?

Had the ghosts won?

Was Fuji dead for good?

Was he dead at all?

Was…?

Why had Yumiko collapsed just like this, what had she done, what was it she had been talking about to scare the ghosts like this, what had her threat been, what could she have done, what had his own part in all this been, and, was there still a chance, only the smallest, the tiniest of all chances to save his friend?

Could this still come to a happy ending?

Could he maybe, one day, sit down comfortably on his couch, sigh, and think back on this day without a bitter tang of regret, but of a challenge mastered? Of a very, very bad – nightmarish – day they’d survived?

But the scenery in front of his eyes made mockery of his trembling body’s dearest desire.

It was the ghosts, standing upright. Fujiwara Amane’s soul in Fuji’s body. And Fuji Yumiko unconscious or worse on the ground, only a few steps away from them. Whatever she had done would, perhaps, forever remain a mystery.

There was no movement from her body, no sense of live to her still form. Should he fear the worst?

Where had that chance gone she’d been talking about? Where had everything gone so horridly wrong?

A sudden gasp drew Tezuka from his jumbled thoughts.

Amane’s sorrow-filled eyes were fixed on Tatsunori’s rapidly greying face, her hands clutching his desperately and when she spoke her voice – while still so frighteningly, honeyed and smooth – trembled.

“Ichirou…”

… they’d won, hadn’t they?

“Ichirou…”

… so if they’d won, why were they…

… why did Amane look so heart-wrenchingly unhappy?

“Your hands are cold.”

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have suggestions or comments, please share them with me.

On to Chapter 16 Part II~